


Werewolf in Shining Armor

by eddiewrites307



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale is a Softie, Diner Date, First Dates, Get together fic, Getting Together, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, derek just wants to take care of stiles and tbh i relate to that, despite what the trauma bonding tag suggests, ding dong the jeep is dead, its pure fluff, its sweet, pancakes! damn i want pancakes, such a soft wolf man, the love language of talking about dead mothers, trauma bonding i guess??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:48:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29240841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eddiewrites307/pseuds/eddiewrites307
Summary: When Stiles' Jeep breaks down at 1am, guess who comes to save him?Not Scott, that's for damn sure
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 6
Kudos: 230





	Werewolf in Shining Armor

Stupid,  _ stupid _ piece of shit car.

Stiles stood at the side of the road at one in the freakin’ morning, staring under the hood of his ratty old Jeep, wondering helplessly to himself if duct tape would be able to solve matters this time. Something was smoking, so, probably not.

Eh, worth a shot.

As he dug into his backpack for the familiar silver role, he heard another car pull up, coming to a stop. Stiles looked up and sighed.

Derek Hale, werewolf extraordinaire, was the  _ last  _ person he wanted to see in his time of need.

However, someone upstairs really hated Stiles, and because here Derek was, all 6ft of his scruffy, unfairly attractive self unfolding from his expensive ass car. 

Damn that family money.

“Stiles,” Derek said, in a tone that suggested Stiles was an idiot. You know, his usual tone. “What are you doing out here this late?”   


“Technically, it’s morning,” Stiles quipped. His hand closed around the duct tape, and he pulled it out with a flourish. “Ha! You see, I’m having some car difficulties. Nothing I can’t handle, so shoo.”   


Derek blinked. “Don’t shoo me.”   


“I’m shooing you.” With that, Stiles turned back to his car, picking at the duct tape, only to jump straight into the air when he felt a presence at his back that definitely wasn’t there a second ago. “I’m gonna put a goddamn bell on you!”   


“You can’t fix that with duct tape,” Derek said, leaning over Stiles to look under the hood properly, all body heat and firm muscle and deep voice right next to Stiles’ ear and  _ oh god he’s close --  _

“I can and I will,” Stiles choked out, slipping to the side so that every sense wasn’t completely overwhelmed by the older man. He smelled like cinnamon and coffee. It was distracting. “You know, you never said why you were out so late.”   


“Doesn’t matter,” Derek said, arching one of those ridiculous (sexy) eyebrows at him. “You need a new car, Stiles, this thing is falling to pieces.”   


Stiles clammed up. “No.”   


“Why not?”   


“I said no, Sourwolf.” Stiles turned away to look in the car. Time to deflect. “I like this Jeep! It’s a hot mess, like car like owner, ha!”   


“Stiles,” and Christ, that was Derek’s ‘I’m the Alpha and I care about you’ voice that he used on Isaac when his anxiety was acting up, “I can hear your heart rate, you know.”   


“That’s cheating.”   


“Sure it is.” Derek shifted impossibly closer. “What’s wrong?”   


Stiles glared at the innards of his stupid broken car, feeling frustrated tears well up despite how hard he tried to hold them back. “It was my mothers,” he ground out. “I’m not giving up on it.”   


There was silence, and Stiles suddenly remembered that Derek probably understood more than Stiles assumed he would.

“We’ll call a tow truck,” Derek said finally, his hand coming up to rest on Stiles’ shoulder. He absolutely did not lean into the contact, thank you very much. “I’ll have them bring it to my place, we’ll look at it in the morning. For now, let’s get you home.”   


“Not home,” Stiles said, shaking his head. He could feel his usual bravado coming back, apparently Derek was very comforting when he needed to be. “I can’t sleep, and if I do my normal insomnia bullshit I’ll wake up Dad. I’ll find some way to entertain myself, don’t you worry.”   


“Right,” Derek said sarcastically, his grip tightening ever-so-slightly. “I’ll just leave you, a human, out on the street in a supernatural-infested town in the middle of the night. Great plan.”

Stiles scowled. “I can take care of myself.”   


“Sure you can,” Derek said easily, using his hold on Stiles’ shoulder to steer him to his own car, gleaming black in the moonlight. Half moon. “Get in, we’re getting breakfast.”   


“Breakfast?”   


“You said it’s morning, didn’t you?”   


So Stiles got in the car, head spinning over  _ who took over Derek’s body and made him nice to me _ , buckling up while Derek slid into the driver’s seat and called a tow truck.

After he ended the call, he started the car, pulling back onto the road and heading towards a dingy little 24-hour diner nearby. “Tell me about your mom.”   


“What?” Stiles gaped.

“Your mom. Tell me about her.”   


“She was...awesome,” Stiles said slowly, not entirely sure what was going on. “She taught me how to cook, which thank god for that, because we would’ve starved to death if  Dad had to cook after she passed. She was the only one who called me by my real name instead of Stiles.”   


Derek looked over for a moment, both eyebrows raised. “Stiles isn’t your real name?”   


“Hell no,” Stiles snorted. “My real name is very long, very Polish, and very ridiculous. You’re certainly never hearing it, no one ever uses it. Only Mom.”   


Derek hummed, a small noise, but Stiles took it as a cue to continue.

“She always used to call me and Scott the ‘Disaster Duo’ because we tended to break things playing superheroes all the time. When she found out Scotty’s parents were fighting, she’d make up reasons for me to have him over so that he wouldn’t have to deal with it. When I got diagnosed with ADHD, she dragged me to three different child psychiatrists until I knew how to get through school on my own.”   


“She sounds nice,” Derek said, sounding almost wistful. “Thoughtful.”   


“She was,” Stiles agreed, and for once it didn’t hurt to say. “What about your mom?”   


“What?”   


“Return the favor, Wolfman, tell me about your mom.”   


Derek tensed, but after a moment his shoulders relaxed, and he sighed. “She was fierce. Strong. She kept me and my sisters, the whole pack really, in line. She was also the one to patch us up if something happened and we didn’t heal immediately.” He stopped talking after that, but wow, that was the most Stiles had ever heard Derek talk about his family.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“Me too.”   


They sat in a comfortable silence until they reached the diner, and before Stiles could reach for his door Derek was there, holding it open with a slight embarrassed flush on his face.

“My my,” Stiles teased, climbing out of the car. “Such a gentleman. You gonna hold my hand and everything?”   


Derek’s ears burned red, and he rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Stiles.”

Stiles cackled as they went inside, sliding into a booth and grabbing menus. 

“I want coffee.”   


“No, Stiles, it’s too late for coffee.”   


“You’re not my dad.”   


“I’m still not letting you get coffee.”   


“Ugh, you suck. I’m getting a milkshake with pancakes.”   


“That’s a lot of sugar.”   


“I do what I want.”   


Derek snorted at that, closing his menu. “You’re ridiculous.”   


“I try,” Stiles snarked, and a sweet older woman came by to take their order. Stiles got his milkshake and pancakes, while Derek ordered just about every piece of meat they had available. She left, and Stiles propped his chin up in his hand, eyeing Derek curiously. “You know, one might think this is a date.”   


Derek’s ears burned again, and he busied himself with picking at his nails. “Fascinating,” he said dryly, but there was a strained tone behind the sarcasm.

Stiles might not be a wolf, but he knew body language. He grinned. “Are you taking me on a date right now? You saved me from the streets, now we’re on a date?”   


“I hardly saved you from the streets,” Derek scoffed.

“You didn’t answer,” Stiles sang, daringly reaching across the table and grabbing one of Derek’s much larger hands in his own. “Is this a date?”   


Derek didn’t meet his eyes. “I would like it to be one,” he said finally, and Stiles' grin widened as he squeezed Derek’s hand.

“I’d love that.”

**Author's Note:**

> written for anon on tumblr, thanks love!!


End file.
